


As Luck Would Have It

by xxsoujinxx



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014), Big Hero 6: The Series (Cartoon), Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Pining, hiro is a smooth bastard, hironette, how do tags work??, i will see this fic to the end, idk man, like cha cha real smooth, marinette is oblivious
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-25 07:34:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21352558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxsoujinxx/pseuds/xxsoujinxx
Summary: Hiro Hamada and Marinette Dupain-Cheng: what do they have in common?Well, they're both superheroes. And students at the San Fransokyo Institute of Tech. Eighteen-years-old, half-Asian. Into indie music and red bean buns.Oh, and they're slowly falling in love with each other, even if they're too cowardly to say it. Throw in a bad guy hellbent on destroying the world, crazy friends trying to play Cupid, even crazier shenanigans that are pure college student and no superhero, an equal ratio of obliviousness and denial and pining, and boom - there's a story waiting to be told.
Relationships: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Hiro Hamada
Comments: 10
Kudos: 53





	1. Chapter 1

The penthouse was absolutely gorgeous. Wide windows that faced San Fransokyo’s bustling streets on the north wall, a balcony with a table and two chairs overlooking the bay on the opposite side. The tub in the restroom had twenty options of different flower-infused waters and whether or not you wanted bubbles, and the kitchen came with a fridge that could list recipes based on your taste, personal health, and whatever was inside it. Not to mention the flat-screen in the living room, or the marbled coffee table and fancy-looking leather couch, and the bedroom’s silk canopy bed and massive walk-in closet and -

“I can’t possibly accept, sir!” Marinette protested. “This is all too much. I’d be fine at the institute’s dorms, they’re cozy and with enough space for my designing-”

Gabriel Agreste tsked and waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t make a fuss. You’re here on my scholarship, and this is simply a benefit of it. Besides, a dorm is not inconspicuous enough for Ladybug activities. Here, you’ll have all the privacy you’ll need.”

“He’s got a point, Marinette,” Tikki agreed. “On-campus would be the worst place to transform, there are so many things that could go wrong and - oh, there’s even a little bed for me!”

Marinette sighed. If Tikki thought it well, then she definitely wasn’t getting out of it.

“One more thing,” Gabriel Agreste said. “Follow me, _ ma chère _.”

Marinette fell in love the moment they stepped inside - it was a fashion designer’s dream come true. Sure, it was the least fanciest room in the entire penthouse, with only five blank mannequins and a worktable and empty racks where fabric rolls were supposed to be. But Marinette could make the space _ hers _, fill it with life and love and all her ideas. And for a moment, she couldn’t speak.

So she threw her arms around Gabriel Agreste and squeezed him tight.

Mr. Agreste blinked rapidly, and he awkwardly patted her shoulder, but he seemed to understand. “Well, then. I’ll leave you to get settled. Keep me updated, yes? If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask.”

After Mr. Agreste left, Marinette fluttered around the suite, doing her best to make it feel like home. She taped pictures of her friends and family next to her bed, unpacked her things - even with three whole boxes of clothes and accessories, the closet _ still _ wasn’t full - and spent a weirdly unnecessary amount of time exploring the restroom amenities. She emerged from the tub hours later, the grime of the airplane washed away by a lavender bubble bath. 

“You smell lovely, Marinette,” Tikki complimented. “You know, it really is so kind of Mr. Agreste to do this for us.”

“I know!” Marinette’s voice was muffled by her rummaging through the closet. “Who would have thought that one year after defeating him we’d be here - in America, on a scholarship in his name, and him being a Ladybug supporter. _ My _supporter. It feels almost like a dream.”

“A dream in which Ladybug leaves Paris.” Tikki sighed wistfully. “I wonder how Adrien will do without us?”

“That silly kitty will be fine. He and Master Fu have the other Miraculouses to help them out. Besides,” Marinette added, “‘Ladybug’ is looking forward to meeting San Frasokyo’s superhero team on a night patrol. When do you think we’ll get to see them?”

Tikki fixed Marinette with a stern glare. “Not until you’re settled in. You need to adjust to the time zone, and get ready for school, and make some friends who have your back before anything else. I can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt because you feel out of place.”

“Okay, okay.” Marinette wriggled on a jacket. “Done! Let’s go exploring then, Tikki, we can see what’s around. I want to find a good bakery as fast as possible.”

“Homesick already, Marinette?” Tikki teased.

Marinette glanced at the photos on the wall and smiled. “Something like that.”

~

A bell jingled as Marinette pushed the door open to the Lucky Cat Cafe. The large cat above the doorway had reminded her of home - her mother had a statue similar to it next to the cash register. There weren’t that many customers in today, it seemed; but Marinette’s attention was caught by a curious white balloon-looking thing holding a tray of buns. To her surprise, it waddled up to her, and - were those two black dots supposed to be eyes? - it spoke. 

“Hello. I am Baymax. Would you care for a red bean bun?”

“Um, sure.” Marinette plucked a golden-brown pastry from the tray. “Thank you. Are you a waiter, or. . .?”

“I am Baymax,” the balloon repeated. “A personal healthcare companion. I am responsible for the wellbeing of patients assigned to me. Anyone who comes through that door is now my patient. You are my responsibility. Please, follow me.”

Baymax waddled towards an empty table and, with the pace of a snail, dragged out a chair. The _ scriiiiiiiitch _made Marinette wince, but she sat when Baymax looked at her expectantly. It didn’t seem like it could smile, but Marinette thought she detected pride in its voice for successfully taking care of her. She had to admit, it was kind of cute.

“Please take your time to browse the menu. I must report that a new patient has arrived, but your order will be taken care of shortly.”

Baymax shuffled off, occasionally knocking around tables and chairs and a customer, and disappeared into the kitchen. 

“That was so weird,” Tikki whispered. “Do you think all cafes are like that here?”

“I don’t know, but I thought it was funny,” Marinette said as she flipped through the menu. “What d’you want, Tikki? I’ll get it to-go for you.”

Tikki peered out of the bag. “Ooooh, those strawberry cookies look good!”

“Okay, cookies for you, and . . .” Marinette flicked through the pages. “Oolong tea to go with the red bean bun. Oh, just in time! Here he comes again.”

After Marinette had placed her order, she pulled out her sketchbook. It was a new one she’d bought just to celebrate her move to San Fransokyo, its pages crisp and creamy-white. The Lucky Cat Cafe, cute and colorful and beautifully quirky, seemed like the perfect place to start brainstorming new ideas. But she’d just barely touched pencil to paper when a voice called out, “Order for Marinette coming through!” followed by, “Shit, no, Mochi, bad cat - nononono SHIT!” then -

_ Whump. _

_ CRASH! _

_ Splshhhhh. _

A middle-aged brunette poked her head from the kitchen, looking mildly concerned. “Everything okay, Hi - oh. I suppose not. What on earth happened?”

“Sorry, Aunt Cass.” A guy with unruly black hair in an apron looked up at Marinette, soaked in tea and mouth agape, and then at the tray, shattered teacup, and scattered cookies from where he lay sprawled on the floor. “Mochi happened. You okay, miss?”

“What?” Marinette blinked herself out of her shock. “Oh, yes. I’m fine. But your fall looked worse than - oh no, my sketchbook!”

The guy scrambled up and leaned across the table, wincing at the sight. All the pages were soaked and stained brown. Even after it dried, there was no way Marinette could use it. 

“I am so, so sorry about that,” the guy apologized, abashed. “I’ll give you the money for it, no problem. And a fresh batch of those cookies to take with you, since I’m sure you’ll never come back here again. But, uh, would you like to have a change of clothes before you go? We’ve got t-shirts and stuff, totally free of charge, of course.”

Marinette held up a hand, trying to bite back a smile, her indignation and fury fading. She knew she should be angry that her sketchbook was ruined, but it was really sweet that the guy was trying so hard to make up for it. It was hard to stay mad at someone who looked so ashamed of himself.

“It’s fine,” she assured him. “You don’t have to pay me back. I’d appreciate the change of clothes, though. But I’ll pay for them - no, please, if you’re giving me the cookies for free, it’s the least I can do.”

The guy whistled. “Damn, I don’t think we’re ever going to get another customer as nice as you. Too bad you won’t be coming back after this.”

“Nothing could keep me away from those red bean buns.” This time, Marinette did smile. “They remind me so much of home.”

“I’ll let Aunt Cass know, then. She’ll definitely want to adopt you after hearing that.” The guy collected the tray and shards of ceramic, then motioned Marinette to follow him up a staircase behind the coffee bar. “Come on, I’ll get you the clothes. Baymax will take care of the cookies.”

“Are all cafes like that here?”

“Like what?”

“Do they all have balloon robots as waiters?”

The guy laughed. Okay, he was cute when he laughed. Pretty cute in general, actually, with warm brown eyes and bedhead hair and a crooked grin and dimples . . . 

Which Marinette was not staring at. No way. 

“Baymax really isn’t a waiter. He’s a healthcare companion. He just likes helping out from time to time.”

Marinette frowned. “But shouldn’t he be at a hospital or something like that?”

“It’s kind of a long story.” The guy shot her a smile that, to Marinette’s dismay, made her heart flutter. “But if you’re really set on coming back, we could swap next time you’re here. Mine for yours.”

“What makes you think I have a story?”

“That’s what I’m hoping to hear next time I see you.”

How was this bastard so _ smooth _? Just minutes ago he’d been an apologetic, bumbling mess, but now Marinette was the one under the spotlight. Thank God for all that time spent with Chat Noir, or else her face would be as red as a strawberry right now.

“It’s a deal, then.” She stuck out her hand, and the guy shook it.

“Through here.” The guy ushered her into a bedroom, threw a set of clothes at her, and backed out quickly. “Just come down when you’re done. I’ve got to go soon, so I’ll probably be gone when you’re finished, but it was nice meeting you. Well, all circumstances considered. I’ll be waiting on that deal.”

And with one last crooked smile, he shut the door.

Tikki zipped out of her bag, giggling. “Well, _ he _was certainly nice, hm? Not to mention good-looking.”

“Oh, hush,” Marinette scolded. “I barely know him. Besides, anyone that smooth with a stranger? He probably does it all the time. I _ am _curious about Baymax, though. And like you said earlier, it’d be nice to have a friend around.”

“So you’re going to cash in on the deal?” Tikki wiggled her eyebrows. “The way he said it, it sounded awful lot like a date to me. Or, at least, he wanted a date.”

“All I want is a friend, Tikki,” Marinette said, exasperated. “I’ve dealt with enough love problems for the past few years. I don’t need them to follow me all the way to America.”

“Whatever you say, Marinette.” Tikki kept quiet until they exited the cafe with cookies in hand, and Marinette was worried she’d somehow offended her Kwami when she piped up with:

“You have to admit, you really liked his dimples, didn’t you?”

_ “Tikki!” _


	2. Chapter 2

“You’re in a bad mood tonight,” Honey noted as she watched Hiro chop the carrots. She was sitting across the oak-paneled counter from him, peeling tangerines per his request. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you so . . .” Honey mimed his tense chopping, her face mirroring Hiro’s exact expression: mouth curled down, nose scrunched up in disgruntlement. “Like that?”

Hiro frowned. “I don’t think I was making  _ that  _ kind of face.”

“That’s because I’m not feeling what you’re feeling,” Honey said matter-of-factly. “So of  _ course  _ mine’s isn’t going to be as realistic. Now I’m going to ask again: what’s up?”

“Oolong girl hasn’t visited in the past few days,” Go-Go called from the living room couch; they could only see the back of her head, but the smirk in her voice was evident enough. “Our boy is in looooove.”

Honey gasped. “Awww, is that true? Hiro, you’re sad because you’re pining and lovesick? Oh, you poor thing, you should have told us! I could probably find her for you, you know.”

Hiro rolled his eyes. “I am  _ not  _ in love with her, Honey. I don’t even know anything about her. I mean, she’s cute, yeah, but I just feel really bad about the tea thing. And, Go-Go, we can’t call her ‘Oolong girl’ because of that. If she ever comes back to the cafe and it slips out of me, I’ll never look her in the eye again.”

“We do the same for Wasabi,” Go-Go points out. (Two blocks away at a Sam’s Club, Wasabi sneezes.) “And if you’re not in love, then why are you so hung up on this chick?”

“She just. . .” Hiro paused. “I don’t know. But I feel like I’ve seen her somewhere before. That’s why I want to know her story. There’s this nagging in the back of my head that I know her somehow.”

“Maybe it’s a soulmate thing?” Honey suggested. “You saw her in a dream and now that you’ve actually met, you can reunite! It’s happened before, you know.”

Hiro threw a glare Go-Go’s way. “See what you did? You unleashed the romantic within her. I’m never going to hear the end of this.”

The front door unlocked, and Wasabi strolled through, triumphantly holding a grocery bag above his head like a trophy. “I got the chicken!”

Go-Go went for the immediate question. “Wasabi, you like your nickname, right?”

“I  _ tolerate  _ it,” Wasabi corrected, “and only by the barest minimum. Hey, Hiro, where do you want this? In the salad or outside?”

“Outside,” Hiro answered, dumping the carrot slices into a bowl of mixed greens, bell peppers, red onions, and pomegranate. “That’s enough tangerines, Honey, thanks. Can you get me the dressing? It’s in the fridge somewhere.”

“Remind me again why we’re making a celebratory dinner?” Go-Go asked. “We could’ve gone to the cafe and save you all this trouble.”

“”It’s important, Gogo!” Honey Lemon exclaimed as she slid Hiro the bottle of blackberry vinaigrette. “It’s a sign of renewal, our friendship - “

“And it shows us how unhealthy we’re going to be once we’re back at school next Monday,” Wasabi added, tipping the lemon-pepper roast chicken onto a serving plate. “We’re not going to be eating like this every day when we’re stuck in the lab, or up late working on theory papers, or when we accidentally get locked inside a broom closet chasing a runaway project-”

“That happened  _ one  _ time!” Hiro interrupted. “And it was  _ your  _ project I was chasing, Wasabi, so you’re welcome.”

Wasabi raised an eyebrow at Honey. “Why’s the little man so feisty today?”

“Oolong girl,” Honey said with a shrug.

“Ah.” Wasabi nodded sagely. “So he’s in love.”

“Jesus christ,” Hiro muttered. “And to think, I  _ like  _ living with these guys.”

Honey Lemon’s phone beeped, and she perked up. “Oooh, Ladyblog update! Come on, we can watch while we eat. I’ll put it on TV.”

Wasabi and Hiro carried the dishes over to the coffee table while Honey tapped away at the remote. Go-Go scooted to the side to make room for her friends, and they all plopped down to watch the latest interview. It started with a crowd surrounding Chat Noir in the middle of the street, applauding him wildly for his most recent heroic deed.

“Hey, check it out!” Wasabi pointed at the screen. “You can see Fred waving in the background.”

“Hey, Fred.” Hiro waved back. “Hope you’re having fun in Paris.”

“Shhhh!” Honey elbowed Hiro in the ribcage gently. “Alya’s coming on!”

“Chat Noir! Chat Noir!” The camera moved forward, pushing past people until it was fully focused on the superhero. The English subtitles scrolled across the screen as Alya spoke rapid-fire French. “As always, we, the citizens of Paris, are incredibly grateful for your help. But my followers and I have been wondering about something - you’ve been going solo lately. Is Ladybug okay? She’s not hurt, is she? Her fans dearly miss her.”

“No need to worry about my lady, Madame Cesaire,” Chat said smoothly. “With Paris finally free from Hawkmoth, she decided it was time to search elsewhere to fight crime. After all, her yo-yo was the only thing that could purify the akumas - but with them gone, Ladybug felt free from a burden she carried for much too long. So I told her to travel, find another place that needed her help. The other Miraculous and I will continue to hold down the fort here. Please, don’t worry too much about her - I’m sure you’ll be seeing Ladybug on the news soon enough.”

“Did you guys hear that?” Honey’s eyes shone. “Imagine if she came here! Imagine if we teamed up with Ladybug!”

Wasabi snorted. “Yeah, right. What’re the odds of that happening? She might not even know we exist.”

“Well, if we obsessively check the world for other superhero activities, then she might too,” Honey said. “Come on, wouldn’t another team-up be fun? Remember that thing we did with those Batkids a couple years back?”

“You mean when their tiny-ass brother caused a city-wide blackout?” Go-Go asked sarcastically. “Yeah, that was real fun.”

Hiro, who had been quietly watching all this time, suddenly jerked up as if someone had slapped him. Bits of salad tumbled out of his bowl as it crashed to the floor. 

“That’s it!” he yelled.

“What’s it?” Wasabi demanded. “Whatever it is, it had better be worth this mess; you know vinaigrette doesn’t come out easy.”

“I know where I’ve seen Oolong girl before! Honey, let me see your phone.”

Honey peered over Hiro’s shoulder as he scrolled through the Ladyblog. “What are you looking for, exactly?”

“It was a vlog you showed us before, when Alya went around Paris asking people to declare their support for Ladybug . . . found it!” 

Hiro hit play, and now a different video took up the screen: Alya manning the camera, following a girl with blue eyes, freckles, and glossy black hair twisted into pigtails. 

“You start us off, okay, Marinette? Then I’ll ask the next person, and then you, and so on and on.”

“Why can’t it just be you, Alya?” Oolong girl -  _ Marinette,  _ Hiro scolded himself - complained. “You’re the one who runs the blog.”

“Variety, my friend!” Alya proclaimed. “Besides, I have a lot more fun when you do things with me.”

The corners of Marinette’s mouth curled upwards. “Well, when you put it like that . . . okay, fine. Let’s go.”

Hiro hit pause, the screen frozen on Marinette’s smile. “She didn’t have the pigtails, but that’s definitely her.”

“Damn.” Wasabi whistled. “Your girlfriend is the Ladyblogger’s best friend?”

“That. is. Amazing!” Honey clasped Hiro’s hands imploringly. “Next time you see her, invite her to hang out with us. We can show her around the city! And when she goes back, she can tell Alya everything she learned about Big Hero 6!”

“She might have gone back already for all I know.” Hiro sighed, glum. “She hasn’t been around much, remember?”

The thought disappointed him, although he wasn’t sure why. If anything, he should be  _ happy  _ that the girl he fucked up in front of was on a plane the other side of the world. But Hiro had been looking forward to seeing her again; he couldn’t ever remember a person with eyes as kind as hers. 

“Oh, Hiro.” Honey put an arm around him. “The magic of being soulmates will come through, you’ll see. Just give it some time.”

Hiro buried his face into a throw pillow and groaned.

Honey’s phone beeped again, this time with a news update, and Hiro peeked over the pillow to tap on the notification. He inhaled sharply at the headline, eyes scanning the article swiftly. “No fucking way.”

“If you dump your chicken next, I’m suing,” Wasabi warned.

“Guys-” Hiro’s voice caught in his throat.  _ “Look.” _

The headline read:  **LADYBUG SEEN SWINGING THROUGH SAN FRANSOKYO’S STREETS - WHAT IS SHE HERE FOR?**

“Ohmigodohmigodohmigod!” Honey squealed. “She’s HERE! She’s actually  _ here _ !”

Go-Go stared, eyes narrowed, at the photo included with the article: Ladybug leaping over a row of shops, the blurry neon lights of San Fransokyo casting her in a red glow. “You know, she has a striking resemblance to Oolong girl.”

“And you gotta admit,” Hiro said thoughtfully, “it’s strange that she appeared so suddenly after Marinette moved here from Paris.”

“You think the Big Hero 6 should confront her?” Wasabi suggested. “Based on Alya’s interview, it sounds like she’s here to stay for a while.”

“ _ Or _ ,” Honey interjected, nudging Wasabi, “Hiro could talk to her next time she’s in the cafe. You know, friend over fear tactics.”

Hiro rolled his eyes. “Way to be subtle, Honey. But I’ll do it - we don’t want her thinking we’re the enemy, or that we’re trying to threaten her. A bunch of people in robot suits can be pretty intimidating.”

“Great!” Honey clapped her hands. “Now, I’ve got  _ Wall-E  _ cued up on Netflix. And after that, there’s  _ Up _ ,  _ Inside Out, Ratatouille  _ . . .”

Honey went on and on about the movie marathon she had planned for the night, but Hiro wasn’t paying attention. Instead, his thoughts drifted towards when he would next be seeing her -  _ Marinette _ . 

Hiro wasn’t sure why, but knowing her name made him smile.


End file.
